The Picnic
by s0ulm8
Summary: An intimate look at the love between James Wilson and Cherie Robertston. Don't know who she is? Read 'Wilson's Lament'.


Saturday Night Smut-a-thon, June 30, 2007

Cherie stared at the ceiling as if it held all the answers. Her bed linen lay all around her, crumpled and tousled. She simply could not sleep. She had fallen in love with a man who was probably in love with another man just as deeply. Not knowing the details was driving her insane. Were they lovers? Were they merely the best of friends? Could you be one with or without the other? Madness.

At last her alarm sounded and she almost gratefully rose from her bed to shower and prepare for her day at the office. Accounts, numbers, files, ledgers. These were her life. Her orderly, secure life. Cherie suddenly found that life in chaos. This was not acceptable.

Making her way into town, she couldn't shake James out of her head. His touch was still warming her flesh, his eyes burrowing into her soul. Cherie wanted so much to feel his arms around her again, his breath on the nape of her neck. Her thoughts distracted her enough that she almost ran the red light at the busiest and most dangerous intersection in Princeton.

'Snap out of it, you fool!' She cried out loud to herself. Her heart racing, she continued the commute desperately pushing James out of her thoughts.

Once in the office, she threw herself into her work, peppering her secretary with ever-increasing piles of paper and computer files. When her cell phone rang, it was completely unexpected.

"I'd like that, James. Say eight-ish?" The cell snapped shut.

The relief in her soul was immense. She took the rest of the day off and headed to one of the classier 'adult' shops downtown. Choosing very carefully and trying on at least a dozen outfits, Cherie finally settled on the cherry red ensemble. Decadent and sexy as hell, she would surprise James right out of his socks.

He had given her a key to his hotel room just last week. She intended using it. He was a creature of some habit and Cherie knew that today he'd be out of his office by five, come hell or high water. That gave her plenty of time to set the scene and the mood.

She headed for his hotel and entered, noting once again the neatness of his surroundings. He was particular without being obsessive. She liked that. Shedding her business attire, she donned the bustier and thong panties, taking her time. She enjoyed the dressing almost as much as the undressing. The black silk stockings and stiletto heels completed the vision. Cherie undid her hair, allowing her soft golden tresses to fall, draping her shoulders and back. A final spritz of Obsession for Women and a jasmine scented candle was all it took. She was ready.

Right on cue, she heard the key in the door. Had it been possible, James' eyes would have left their secure home and rolled recklessly to the scene before him. Cherie lay draped across his bed, one leg bent at the knee with her shapely foot settled in front of her other knee. He drank in the sight and lost what little composure he had possessed just five minutes earlier.

Dropping his brief case and locking the door securely, he shed extraneous clothing without so much as a word. Once at the bed, he gazed at the beauty before him, praying it wasn't a dream. Cherie rolled ever so slowly onto her belly all the while watching James lose his mind. It was intoxicating.

He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, awash in the sensual sensations which pulsated over him. He hadn't even touched her yet, nor had she touched him, yet he knew that he might combust at any moment.

"I want to be with you, James, no matter what, who or whom." Those were the last words he heard. The blood pounding in his ears, he succumbed to that most primal of needs. Sliding into the bed beside Cherie, he gathered her to him, suckling and nuzzling every available inch of her bared skin.

She made quick work of the clothing he had left and feasted on his body as a starving person would do. His moans and sighs merely spurred her on. He watched as her mouth devoured his most sensitive of areas, smiling at her skill, trying desperately not to surrender too soon. It was no use. She had come to feed, and feed she did.

Cherie rose, straddling James' midsection, massaging his now limp member against the satiny thong which left barely anything to the imagination. She reached around to undo the bustier when he suddenly stopped her. No, he would do this himself. But first, these panties had to go. Untying the pretty little bows at each hip, he slid the scanty material toward him, raking it against her wetness as he did so. He watched with satisfaction as her eyes closed and her head lolled back just a bit.

James reached forward, cupping her breasts in his hands and lifting them out of the bustier, admiring once again their beauty. Raising up a bit, he licked and suckled her now protruding nipples as an infant would suckle for the milk hidden there. He wrapped his arms around her, undoing the clasps and slowly removing the bright red sheath that hid his prize.

Their mouths met and exchanged loving words not yet spoken, their tongues tasting the sweetness of a life yet to be lived. Emboldened by her trembling body, James enveloped her in his arms and rolled her to her back. He would discover once again her hidden world, her secret garden and feast as she had feasted.

Were you merely an aural voyeur, you might have thought some poor woman was in deep mourning in the adjoining room. You would be wrong. Cherie's vocalizations reflected the deepest physical happiness she had ever known. James either knew instinctively or learned very quickly what it was that sent her body into states of bliss she didn't think were possible. She could hide nothing from him, she held nothing back.

When at last she thought she could take no more, James ceased his ministrations and slid himself up the length of her body, watching her desire-darkened eyes as his renewed vigor slid effortlessly into her waiting want. Plunging head-long into their near-mystical union, their very souls were opened to each other, the doors never to be closed again.

Their world was condensed into warm breaths, wet kisses, murmured declarations of love and urgent passion. The night crept upon and around them, unnoticed. Time no longer mattered. Their souls bonded in that one jeweled night.

The morning tip-toed cautiously through the cracks between the drapes as though afraid to interfere. Tendrils of damp hair clung to her neck, beads of sweat formed and cooled his brow. Both were loathe to break contact, lose the warmth, cool the fire.

Finally, certain biological functions won out and they both reluctantly left what had become, quite literally, their love nest. Languorously showering until the hot water gave out, they selfishly enjoyed not the least bit of worry regarding where they should be or when they should be there.

"Cherie, let's picnic in the park, would you like that?"

Cherie smiled brilliantly. "I'd love that, James, I haven't been on a picnic in years!"

They assisted each to redress and gathering up the items they'd need, made their way out of the hotel to his car. Even though he lived in a hotel, James had all the makings of a perfect crystal and china picnic, complete with linen. The man was a born romantic. Although there were several parks near his hotel, James chose a small place out the way in which to draw out their time together in privacy.

They had stopped along the way at James' favorite deli and indulged in crisp French baguettes, stuffed mushrooms and wine. His culinary range never ceased to amaze Cherie.

The park was small and cozy. They found a place under a large willow, which acted not only as an umbrella of sorts from the sun, but as a shade from prying eyes. Their mouths set to tasting as much of each other as possible long before they unpacked the food.

James' hand slid up Cherie's summer skirt and found, to his delight, nothing there at all. She had shaved for him so that the area he loved so much tucked away between her legs which was usually soft and bushy was now soft and smooth. He took his time exploring all the little folds and now-naked mounds which she had uncovered for him. The fact that she would expose herself like this for him was a solid turn on and it worked beautifully.

Cherie sighed as his fingers explored and probed. She loved the sensations of his fingernails gently scraping against her most tender skin. Shivers ran through her as she was able to ascertain his pleasure at her bareness. She had left the uppermost section of her nether curls intact, simply because she herself liked the sensation of being unshaven above and shaven below. It was a bit decadent and she had so few opportunities to be decadent.

James surprised her by pulling out a full-sized blanket from his 'Mary Poppins' bag as she had come to call it. "Come, my pretty, let's hide from the world." He grinned that lop-sided grin and threw the blanket over them both. Such delights and secrets were shared there that no one but they would ever know.

Toward evening, the two emerged from their cocoon and reluctantly headed back home. The return trip was quiet, punctuated by the occasional,

'did you really mean.'

'of course, my love, wouldn't have said it if I didn't'

They made their way back to town, the most urgent question on their minds being, 'his place or hers?' It was decided that his place is where it started, and therefore where it should end. For the moment, that is.


End file.
